


Vent (Volume One)

by accidentallybroken



Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotions, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallybroken/pseuds/accidentallybroken
Summary: This is just a vent fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a vent fic.

     

 _There's something sweet about sadness,_ Carter mused. It wasn't always crushing. Sometimes it was. But sometimes it was light, resting on his soul in a way that he was always aware of, never quite immune to. Sometimes he could feel it in his lungs, making it hard to breath, thinning his air. He was feeling it now, the light little pain on his soul. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted it to stop. It was better than anger, thick and laced with insecurity and blunt blades. It was better than feeling nothing, which was truly crushing, heavy and thick and humid. Fear was the sharpest, cold knives in his skull. Overall, sadness wasn't the worst emotion he could be feeling. 

      But Jocelyn was gone. And it was his fault. He should be feeling anger, strong and swirling, at himself for not being good enough. He should be afraid, breathless and bleeding ice and orange, of the future without Jocelyn. Or he should be numb to everything, because how dare he feel after he had failed to be enough for Jocelyn, that amazing human being.  After all he had been through with Jocelyn, sad was the best he could do? 

         Of course, sadness wasn't the only thing he was feeling. He felt some of those pencil emotions, confusion (though that was in practically every emotion, putting that purple haze over the clearest of emotions), something he couldn't name, -green and black and opaque-, and relief. Where was relief coming from? Maybe it was just because Jocelyn was impossible. How could he have ever be expected to be good enough for her? No one deserved him, his broken cracked black and white painted face and his shaking hands. Maybe it was less of a pull, to try to be good enough for her.

   Not that she ever should have expected better. There was the anger, hard and storming. How could she lead him on like that? How could he have hoped? It wasn't her fault. And there was the plunging murky guilt. He shouldn't be blaming her. Why was he angry? He fell deeper into his guilt. 

   "Carter!" He was jerked out of his thoughts by Isaiah's voice. "Hey. Stop worrying about it. " Isaiah's mocha eyes were worried, pools of warmth and kindness. 

   "How can I? There's something wrong with me, I wasn't good enough." Despair, a hot river of it. Isaiah shook his head and sat next to Carter.   

   "That's not what it means. Sometimes people just aren't compatible, and that's okay. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with anyone." 

    "Am I just incompatible with everyone?"

    "No, Carter. You're you, and that's good enough." Hope, giddy and silver. 


End file.
